Ironing the Wrinkles

I was ironing some white fabric yesterday for a --in true Grace fashion-- last minute costume for my youth group Christmas party.
The fabric was used for a candy cane costume years ago, and you can still see where the red stripes were sewn on. It's stained, I think the stitching is coming unsewn on the hem and the wrinkles, which were very plentiful, were also very deep-set... probably from cramming it in my sewing container. Anyway.
As I glided the iron back and forth, trying to get those stubborn creases out, I was thinking how it's like us with God.
We are the wrinkley fabric- the stained, the torn, the one with bits of history hanging on. We stubbornly hold on to the "creases" as we simultaneously remind ourselves that if we'd just let go, if we were just stronger or better, we could be turned into something better. A battle raging on.
And then there's God.
He knows it all. Which, if you think about, is pretty crazy. I mean, our minds probably go to things like that "worse" sin most people don't know we struggle with... And that's true, he does know those things- but everything is everything. So along with seeing the stubborn creases and stains, he sees the person--you-- and he wants you because he knows your worth and he loves you.
So he gets to work on us... patiently ironing out the wrinkles, the work of transformation underway. And it may take longer than we'd like, is harder than we anticipated and sometimes it feels like we're running on a dreadmill- our sides are cramping but we haven't moved forward, but he's here. Loving us, desiring us, present.
And here we are. Loved, desired, and faced with a choice.

You make beautiful things out of dust

I watched this YouTube video a while ago about "falling with style". I wanted to learn that, how to fall with style... Where is the line between holding yourself to unattainable standards and not putting forth any effort? How?

  Well. Last Wednesday, I had one of those moments and was ready to quit trying. In short, that dang straw probably hopped on the camels back again and I was done.

And then I went to youth group and God gave me what I needed in the lesson.
First: we listened to the song "Beautiful Things".
"You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of dust. You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of us." "You make me new, you are making me new."
It's a process. I am dust and God is making me new... not, God made me new for the one and only time and I blew my chance, so good luck to me. His grace is enough.
And, a question from Wednesday: am I being made new?
Second: words have power. James 3 says that a man who can control his tongue is able to keep his whole body in check.
Wow.
Have I mentioned I'm not very good at that, either?
Third: give thanks. I read a quote today that said: "If anyone would tell you the shortest, surest way to all happiness—
he must tell you to make it a rule to yourself to thank and praise God for everything that happens to you.
For it is certain that whatever seeming calamity happens to you, if you thank and praise God for it, you turn it into a blessing."

Seems easy enough, right? I'll name five right now: Abby's free laugh, hot coffee, community, showers, and getting to spend tomorrow with people I love. But then you realize... *everything* that happens to you--That includes when siblings decide it's necessary to fight again, when my back still hurts and the dishes wait and I burned the cookies, and I have a lot to do... And not only thanks, but also praise? When someone was rude earlier, I told them "thanks for your opinion", but to thank God and praise him?

Yes. A process from dust to something beautiful, learning the discipline of giving thanks for all things, pretty with unicorns and glitter or not.

The Worth of a Friendship

She sat over there on the couch, and we talked about how sometimes people are hard.
They are. Sometimes they make it really easy to want to throw your hands in the air, white flag and all, and call it quits because seriously, they can just be so goshdarndifficult.

I wonder about this person, I worry about that one, a new side of them is revealed and i don't know what I'm supposed to think. Those ones need so much love, but how do I show it? That one is kind of intimidating, but I need to be brave, I need to be me. I can't be a doormat, I can't be a jerk. I must stand for the Truth, but nobody likes being preached at.

The truth is, people are difficult- I'm sorry, but sometimes we really just suck. But I have to mentally take myself by the shoulders and ask myself, "Is it worth it? Is the uncertainty, the struggling, the discomfort and growth, is it worth having friends? Is it worth making a pizza with some of your closest friends at 1 AM, eating the entire thing and then having more real, non-small-talk conversations? Is it worth having the privilege of loving somebody and having a relationship?"

Heck. Yes.



Happy Saturday, Folks. Have a good one.

The Lost Sheep

We talked about loss in youth group yesterday.

My group read the parable of the lost sheep:

"15 Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. ² But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

³ Then Jesus told them this parable: ⁴ “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? ⁵ And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders ⁶ and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ ⁷ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent."
Luke 15:1-7

I guess I can only speak for myself, but when we are that lost sheep, when we are that one, we kind of tend to feel like crap. A failure. Worthless.

All of those ninety-nine sheep managed to follow direction, they managed to stick with it and not get lost, and then? There's you. Me. Why would he want that?

But you know what? God not only forgives you, he will search for you, leaving those ninety-nine, because he wants you. The lost sheep.

Pretty amazing, I think.

The Broken Rule

I was feeling rather sorry for myself this afternoon when I accepted the fact that wearing cute, very unsupportive shoes to go learn square dancing tonight would, in fact, be foolish. I wanted to wear a dress or skirt, you know.. And I was ridiculously angry that arthritis leached that far, that I have to think about that sort of thing when I leave my house! I can't just throw on whatever I want, I have to take into account how much walking, sitting and standing I'll be doing. I thought how "sometimes arthritis figuratively kicks you in the crotch" and for a little bit, I remembered how hating someone is like murdering them in your heart, and I was perfectly okay with it. Die. I hate it. It sucks.
I use to *love* dancing- I still do. I loved it so much that I wanted to be a dance instructor for little kids when I grew up. I danced during the singing at church, I danced to the Black Eyed Peas on my Mp3 player.. And then arthritis happened.

But you know what I just realized? Not that long ago, we were happy because I could dance again.

So yeah.. I wore jeans and a button down instead of one of my favorite dresses. I broke a fashion "rule" and wore skinny jeans with running shoes- But I had fun! I learned some square dancing, had a great night with some of my siblings and future sister-in-law and you know what? I danced with a stranger who happened to be a male that was taller than my shoulders, within a non-creepy age and had beautiful eyes.
His name was Chris.

My Great Grandmother's Jewelry

We looked through my great grandmothers old jewelry the other day... She died when I was a little girl.

I use to think that buying jewelry was kind of a waste of money- Same thing for flowers. Actually, I still think that for flowers, but whatever.

I don't think that for jewelry anymore.
Looking through her jewelry, opening things that still smelled like her, wearing her old necklace.. The old hat box, her mothers ring, the watch that stopped ticking.. What a way to be remembered,  and I mean that. I have a box of stuff that I've attached sentimental value to sitting on the top shelf of my closet, but I don't know... jewelry tells a story.

The Adjustment

Life is a bit of an adjustment right now.

Part of me feels like a wimp because it's not that bad- or really bad at all- but another part of me is unhappy and really struggling because it feels like there's just not enough of me! Part of me feels like there aren't enough hours in the day to get all of my schoolwork done, workout, get all of my chores, other responsibilities and commitments done, be a friend, a sibling, a daughter, spend real time with God, and just live. Christmas is coming and I love Christmas, but how the heck am I going to get everybody's gifts done?

*****




 I am an optimist (believe it or not) and I think there's a lesson in at least a lot of stuff, so what's the lesson in this?

I think part of it is that I have a choice.. The choice and the power to choose how I spend this one short life. There's only twenty-four hours today and I am not promised tomorrow.. So how am I going to spend this one day?

Another is my attitude when faced with difficulty. Life feels difficult and crazy right now, but again, I am faced with the choice.
One day. Today.
Do I want to spend it annoyed, pushing people away, because time, time, time! Or do I want to love them and listen to them and enjoy them? Do I want to spend it procrastinating because I dread how much time History takes me each day and I worry I am going to miss something and fail, or am I going to take initiative, do, and practice the same for all the other things I'm so skilled at procrastinating in? Do I want to spend it dreading, or do I want to send it living?



We were asked a question in youth group on Wednesday... Do we spend at least 8 hours a week on personal recreation? Uh, yeah. How does that compare to how many hours we spend in prayer?

Yeah.

Maybe its not that there aren't enough hours in a day so much as just a poor way of spending them.

*****

My sweet little sister walked up and gave me this when I was feeling rather cranky the other day.. Hahaha!

It'll be okay... I'm okay. Just learning.